


The Weight in Their Chests

by TaraHarkon



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Amnesia, Bad Ending, Burns, Character Death, Closeted Character, Crossover, Death, Eye Trauma, Eyes, F/M, I didn't plan this ending to go like this, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Legends of the Hidden Temple - Freeform, TAZ Balance, TAZ dust, Trauma, Whump, Wonderland, i guess?, normal Wonderland levels of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraHarkon/pseuds/TaraHarkon
Summary: "You lost someone dear to you and that's something we can appreciate. If you think you're up to the task, then you could win your heart's desire here in Wonderland."That was what the note said and there was no way that Anne and Dylan Mathis would give up that chance to get back Jeremiah Blackwell, no matter what the cost.





	1. Chapter 1

Dylan adjusted the light armor he’d gotten, trying to make sure it wasn’t rubbing against his neck as they walked through the forest together. Anne held the note tight in her hand, a crossbow held in the other. They hadn’t told Ma where they were going. She would have stopped them if she knew. They both sure of that. Abigail Mathis wasn’t about to lose both of her children, particularly not for that Blackwell boy. Even if Anne had married him, even if Dylan had held him while he died. Even if both of the twins loved Jeremiah Blackwell more than anyone other than each other. And now that love and trust would be put to the test as they walked closer to the center of the forest, as they looked out at the winding black and white checkered road and the looming circus tent ahead. This was it. This was their destination. This was their last best chance at ever seeing Jeremiah Blackwell ever again. This... was Wonderland.

They walked up to the door, both of them exchanging a look as they saw the writing above the looming darkness. Anne Mathis. Dylan Mathis. So, the invitation had been real. Good, maybe then the promised reward was real as well. Dylan took a step forward, looking into the deep darkness that hung on the other side of the doorway.

"Well... This is it. Ready, Anne?"

Anne took one last look at the note in her hand. _You lost someone dear to you and that's something we can appreciate. If you think you're up to the task, then you could win your heart's desire here in Wonderland._  She jammed it roughly into her pocket and nodded, stepping through into the darkness. Dylan followed after her immediately, his grip on his short sword tightening.

* * *

 When they stepped inside, they were immediately accosted by lights and colors and sound from every direction. A stage stood before them and Anne shaded her eyes to stare up at where a pair of elves, nearly identical, moved towards them in time to the music and lights. Dylan stepped in front of her and bared his teeth, a low growl sounding in his throat. That stopped the pair on the stage and one stepped forward, peering down at them curiously.

"Well, well, well... We've certainly never had so lively a guest before, have we, Lydia?"

The second elf suddenly appeared behind Anne, leaning against her with a hand on her shoulder even though Anne couldn't seem to feel it.

"I don't believe we have, Edward. And just look at them. All kitted up and ready for a little adventure, aren't they?"

Dylan turned quickly, moving towards Lydia only to find Edward suddenly in his path.

"Down, pup. Or don't you want to play our little game and win back your heart's desire? If you don't, you could just leave. The door is open."

Dylan tensed and then met Anne's gaze. So, these two were the hosts of Wonderland?

"A'right... How's this work then?"

Edward stepped off the stage with an artful grace, landing in front of Dylan, and looked him over.

"The rules are simple. You will face a series of challenges and if you can withstand all of them and advance through our little game, then you'll win your prize."

Lydia picked up the story then, still leaning on Anne.

"There are, of course, some rules and sacrifices you'll have to make along the way. But I'm certain it's worth it. Isn't it, dears?" Then she spun and met Anne's eyes. "What was his name again? Jeremiah. That's right."

Anne's grip on her crossbow tightened and Dylan stepped back to move closer to her.

"S'a'right, Anne. Don't let them bait you."

Lydia and Edward both vanished then and a door opened in front of Anne and Dylan. They waited a breath and then stepped through. Inside was another room, large and circular with a wheel at the center. Above the door were two circles. A voice hung in the air then.

"This is the Wheel of Sacrifice. The rules are simple. Spin the wheel and give something up."

"You can say no, of course. But if you do, you'll need to spin one more to make it through."

"As you can see from above the door, it takes one spin per player to make it through. Any questions?"

Dylan was growling again but he stepped up to the wheel. He looked back over his shoulder at Anne.

"Do you mean one spin per player or the same number of spins as players?"

He asked the question of the air, of the hosts they had seen in that first room, but it was Anne that responded first, grabbing his arm.

"Don't you dare, Dylan Mathis. Don't you even think about it."

There was a quiet chuckle that hung in the air.

"The same number of spins as players. So if one of you wants to take on all of the sacrifices, then by all means. But remember, sacrifice is forever."

Anne met Dylan’s eyes and he nodded. For now, they would split the punishment of this place. For now. Dylan closed his hand around the edge of the wheel and gave it as hard a pull as he could, stepping back to watch it spin. Each click as it slowed made the room feel tighter and tighter around him, like he was in the center of a crowd of bodies pressing on him that he just couldn’t see, until it finally came to a stop. Anne tensed as those cheerful voices filled the air again. 

"Well, well, well. It looks like you've stopped on hand."

"Don't worry, we're not going to take your hands."

Edward and Lydia were taking turns speaking, both seeming amused by all of what was happening around them.

"After all, dear, it's only round one."

"We can't be too harsh to start out or who would make it to round three?"

Anne looked up, trying to figure out where the voices were coming from once more.

"Is that it?" She shouted. "Are there three rounds to your game? Is that how it works?"

They ignored her question, it seemed, and instead focused on Dylan.

"Instead... let me see... I think what we want is... a bit of your skill."

"Just a bit of your dexterity. It isn't much, is it? You would be a bit more clumsy."

"Perhaps break things more."

"And really, that's not all that bad."

Dylan shrugged. It wasn't all that bad, after all. He could live with that.

"Fine, fine, whatever."

It wasn't him he was worried about, after all. He had to protect Anne. He had to make sure Anne made it through this place. She stepped up then, spinning the wheel as well. Dylan stared at it as though he could will it to land on something that wasn't all that bad, something that wouldn't hurt her or force her to give up too much. And then it stopped.

"Interesting... It looks like you've spun mind, dear."

"Mind is always a fun one and in this case, what we're going to take from you, is a memory."

Anne tensed and Dylan wished she'd followed her first instinct and just shot these two when they had first arrived.

"What memory?"

She asked it slowly, tone uncertain.

"Nothing too much. Nothing you experienced yourself, even."

"So really, I suppose it's more knowledge than a memory."

"Sherrif Connors, that was his name, wasn't it?"

Dylan began to growl the moment the name was said, fur rippling over his skin. Lydia laughed cheerfully.

"I do believe it is, darling brother. Just look at how he's reacting. So angry."

"What we want, is your knowledge of who killed Jeremiah. You would remember everything else but not have an answer to that mystery."

"Wonderful, isn't it?"

Dylan started to say something and Anne shouted over him.

"Fine, I'll take it."

For a moment, it was like a fog settled in her mind and then it was gone and gone with it was the solution to that mystery, gone with it were the answers that had been so hard won, gone was the explanation for her husband's death and her brother's scars. Dylan watched her for a moment and then she looked at him, perplexed.

"What?"

Then he sighed.

"Never mind. Come on. Door opened. Let's go see what the next damned round is."

Neither of them seemed to notice the black smog that came from both of their mouths. It was only Round One, but the game of Wonderland was truly underway. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Dylan and Anne stepped into the next room, more pulsing music and lights met their ears. There was a dais raised along one side with a pedestal. There were two buttons on it and Dylan frowned as he read them.

"This is a little game we like to call Trust or Forsake. And the rules are quite simple, dears."

"All you have to do is pick one. Somewhere else in Wonderland, there is another group just like you competing for something they want. And they get to choose as well."

Anne took a step closer, looking at the pedestal. Then she looked back at her brother before looking around. Once again, the hosts of this little game weren't present. It was like they were hovering somewhere, hiding just out of sight. Dylan nodded a little.

"So, what happens when we pick?"

He was eyeing the buttons, calculating. 

"The results of this little decision determine how difficult your next challenge will be."

"And of course, how difficult the challenge will be for the other group participating."  
  
The voices seemed to be amused, playing off of each other. It was uncomfortable and it grated on Dylan's nerves. It sounded too much like him and Anne, too familiar but wrong.  
  
"How it works is really quite simple. If you both choose to trust, you both get a nice, easy challenge. But if they forsake you and you trusted them..."  
  
"Well, that would certainly make things difficult for you, now wouldn't it? But quite easy for them."  
  
"And the same in reverse."  
  
Dylan looked back at his sister and then up at the display. His own face, rendered as an odd blocky drawing, looked back at him. Taking that to mean he had to pick first, he walked up to the buttons.  
  
"And if we both forsake?"  
  
It felt odd talking to a person he couldn't see and Dylan found himself looking up as he spoke.  
  
"Why, that makes it the hardest, darling."  
  
Anne started to walk towards her brother, only to find an invisible barricade between them. This decision was for Dylan and Dylan alone. All she could do was talk to him. She closed her eyes, trying to work through it. It sounded like there were two ways to get an easy challenge and two for it to be hard, but if they both chose to forsake then it would be the worst.

"Dylan, you have to-"  
  
But he'd already pushed a button.  
  
"Oh! It looks like you've chosen to forsake."  
  
"Let's see what your counterpart chose, dear."  
  
Lydia sounded positively gleeful and Anne felt a chill run up her spine. If they died in here... No. They couldn't die in here. They had to make it through. They had to get Jeremiah. She glared up at the display beyond her brother. Letters began to take shape there and her throat tightened.   
  
"It looks like they chose to trust! What good luck for you."  
  
"A shame for the other team though, isn't it, Edward?"  
  
Anne felt awful. Absolutely awful. Her grip on the crossbow tightened and she held it against her chest. She closed her eyes tightly.  
  
"Dylan..." Her voice was tight. "Why didn't you _listen_?"  
  
He turned around, not noticing the little puff of black smog that escaped from her mouth.   
  
"We didn't get the hard one, Anne. That's what matters. We gotta make it through here and that's it. Other people don't matter as much as us gettin' Jeremiah and gettin' out of here alive."  
  
Anne shook her head. That didn't feel right. That didn't sound like her brother. But there was nothing she could do about it now. He was right, even if it hurt, even if it didn't feel right. They couldn't just hurt people. That wasn't who they were. That wasn't who they were supposed to be. If they hurt other people to get Jeremiah back, did they really deserve him? Before she really had time to process through her feelings, the wall ahead of them slid open.   
  
Ahead of them was a strange room with two parts, one lofted above the other. Edward stood off the side, suddenly wearing some sort of khaki short pants and a light blue polo shirt with a name tag. He held a microphone in one hand and had a grin on his face.

"Welcome to the Shrine of the Silver Monkey!" He practically sang it, his voice echoing through the room. "The challenge here is quite simple, really, and one of my personal favorites. One of you stays here and the other enters the Shrine. All you have to do is assemble the monkey. Isn't that easy?"

Anne and Dylan exchanged a look and then Dylan spoke nervously.

"Silver?"

"Naturally." Edward grinned. "And since you determined the difficulty, I do believe you're our first competitor. But never fear, darling. Your sister can always help you, she just has to do it from outside."

A moment later, Dylan found his clothes transfigured. With a pop, his armor was replaced with a pair of khaki short pants, a blue shirt with some sort of weird fish on it, a golden helmet, and a pair of knee pads. He stared down at his changed clothes and then over at Edward.

"I get my armor back when I'm done, right?"

Edward only laughed and then gestured towards a gate rising on the side.

"Worry about that later, dear. Your time starts... now."

For a moment, Dylan looked frozen in place. Then he ran full speed through the gate and up the stairs. The room he found there was ornately decorated to look like some sort of jungle temple, the sort of thing he'd read about in books. In the front, perched on a wall that looked down to where Anne was looking on, was a pedestal. Around the room were three pieces of a statue. Well then, this really shouldn't be very hard at all. Dylan spotted one with a square base and grinned. Obviously, that was the bottom. He reached up and grabbed it off the shelf it was on but the moment his hands closed on the metallic statue, he screamed. The metal burned his hands, the air suddenly filling with an acrid stench.

"Dylan?"

Anne's voice was full of fear and she stood on her tip-toes, trying to see him. He had dropped the statue base back on the shelf it was on and had his hands cradled against his chest. Silver. It really was silver. And it burned. After a moment, he looked at his hands. His palms were red and raw, the skin bubbling in places. He hadn't touched silver since he was very little, having learned quickly how much it hurt. 

"I'm... I'm okay, Anne."

He was lying and she knew he was lying. Dylan was a horrible liar, as far as his sister was concerned. At least, about most things. Dylan stared at his hands for another moment and then up at the statue. This was timed. He didn't have long. Cursing under his breath, he reached for the statue base again and clenched his jaw as tight as he could. He turned, slamming it into its base even as the pain tore through him. He was shaking. That was only the first one and he was shaking. If he tried for the next one, if he burnt his hands too much worse...

Dylan tore the bottom of his shirt off, wrapping it around his sore hands. It would at least put something between his skin and the silver. It would at least be something. It would be more than he had before. He managed to get the base back into place properly with an audible click and then reached for the second. With a grunt, he managed to get that piece into place before grabbing for the head. He made it all the way back to the statue he was building and started jamming it into place, turning it so it was facing the right direction when his makeshift hand protections shifted and he touched the silver with his bare skin again. With a scream of pain, he jammed it down and collapsed to his knees. 

Anne ran forward towards the gate as Edward laughed.

"You win!"

As soon as she got to Dylan, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Dyl, what happened?"

He was shaking like a leaf, tears on his cheeks, as he showed her his hands. Anne winced and reached into her pack for the bandages they had and the cheap healing potion they'd bought just for this. She uncorked it and helped Dylan to swallow it. For a moment, he felt a warmth in his gut but then it vanished.

"Anne... What-?"

Then they heard Lydia's voice echoing all around them.

"Now, now, dears, didn't we tell you the rules? There's no healing in Wonderland."


	3. Chapter 3

Dylan flexed his hands against the bandages Anne had wrapped around his palms. They ached, the feeling bone deep and searing with each movement. But he couldn't help but test it. He would need to be able to use his hands if they were going to make it through this place alive. He tried not to lean too heavily on his sister, tried not to let her realize just how much pain he was in. Shooting a glare towards the ceiling, he called out.

"A'right, what's next then? What've we gotta do?"

For a long moment, there was silence. Then confetti fell from the ceiling and one wall lit up brightly with the words Bonus Round! Anne tensed and her grip on her brother's arm tightened. Then Edward and Lydia appeared once again, both of them lounging on a small stage.

"Welcome to the Bonus Round, darlings."

Lydia watched them with amusement in her eyes as her brother spoke. Then she picked up the thread of explanation, words coming fast and tinged with excitement.

"You've done so very well, making it through Round One! So now you get a little bit of a reward. Isn't that nice?"

Edward swung his legs over the side of the stage and stood, gesturing broadly.

"You get three choices, dears. Healing, Recovery, and... Escape."

The Mathis twins exchanged a look. Neither was sure if they could trust what those sounded like. Neither was entirely they could really beat this place. But both of them had a single thought, a single point of focus. A smiling face with fangs that came to points, dark eyes against pale skin, dark curly hair. Anne closed her eyes for a moment and then looked at her brother.

"Healing."

Dylan looked at her uncertainly and then over at Edward and Lydia.

"Does picking one use it up? I mean, Anne, if it does, we don't wanna use healing when I'm just a little hurt. I'll be fine, promise."

It was too late though, Anne had already made their choice for them. Two pedestals appeared in front of them and Anne looked down at the buttons in front of her. The explanation became obvious almost immediately. If she was going to heal her brother, it was going to hurt her. Anne rested her fingers lightly on the button and then looked over at Dylan before pushing it. She winced as pain shot through her and Dylan started to protest even as his hands healed.

"Anne, I told you I was fine!"

He caught her before she stumbled, anxiety creasing his face. He didn't notice as the room around them changed, pedestals vanishing and the Wheel returning. Anne was pale, far too pale for Dylan's liking. Then they both looked up and saw the twin predatory grins on the elves opposite them. Lydia gestured towards the Wheel of Sacrifice with a flourish.

"Ready to spin the wheel, dear? It's time to start Round Two."

Anne stepped up first, looking back at her brother.

"When we get to the next one, Dyl, we're talking it over before picking, a'right?"

He bristled slightly but nodded. She spun the wheel and waited, watching the pointer as it slowed. Lydia leaned in as it came to a stop and then turned towards Anne.

"It looks like you've spun Body, dear. And for that I'm going to need just a bit of your resilience, your health as it were."

Anne hesitated, her thought on the shock of pain that had gone through her when she'd healed her brother. Then she nodded.

"Alright."

She wavered on her feet as the sacrifice took, her skin ashen and her eyes almost sunken. Then she stepped back to let her brother spin the wheel.

Annoyance twinged at Dylan as he stepped up to the Wheel, even with the frantic fear that shot through him at how she looked. Anne was one to talk about making decisions without talking first. Sure, he picked Forsake because he wanted them to make it through here alive. She went and wasted resources they would need later and got herself hurt to boot. And then she did it again! Putting his hand on the wheel, he spun it hard and listened to the rhythmic click-click-click-click as it turned and then slowed to a stop.

"Well... well... well... Isn't this interesting, dear sister? It seems our guest has spun Brain."

Lydia practically bounced with excitement, clapping eagerly.

"How wonderful! And I've got a lovely sacrifice for you to make, Dylan, darling." She leaned in, her eyes hungrily searching his expression for something. "How about you give us the memory of the person you love most?"

Dylan blanched, his thoughts immediately going to Jeremiah. Then he glanced at Anne. It would be better this way, wouldn't it? He wouldn't hurt as much seeing them together if he didn't remember loving Jeremiah. He looked up at the liches and nodded.

"Fine. A'right. I'll take it."

It was like a fog settled into his mind as memories began to drain away. At first, he thought nothing of it. Then he began to scramble, realizing what was vanishing. He clung desperately, trying to claw back each and every memory that slipped out of his mind like water through a sieve. Slowly, he dropped to his knees. Anne moved in, kneeling beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Dylan? Are you a'right?"

He looked up slowly, expression uncertain. Edward chuckled quietly, a sardonic smile crossing his face.

"Yes, Dylan, why don't you tell Anne how you're doing?"

Dylan looked over at Edward for a moment, confusion on his face.

"Who?"


	4. Chapter 4

Anne Mathis felt like the world was dropping out from underneath her feet. Her blood ran cold and she tried to grab her brother's hand, eyes wide and face pale.

"Dyl? Dylan?"

Dylan just pulled away, his eyes narrowed. He shoved her away from him and turned to look up at the two elves.

"Can we just get a move on on all of this? I'm fine."

A pained expression crossed Anne's face and she gestured at her brother, the pain transforming to fury as her gaze came to rest on Edward and Lydia.

"You know this isn't what he thought he was agreeing to. Fix it."

Edward laughed, one hand over his mouth. Then he looked at his sister.

"Do you hear that, sister? She thinks we play fair? Isn't that just _precious_." His tone went from amused to vicious with the final word and then he turned to the pair of them. "On to the next event, shall we?"

Anne raised her crossbow to point at Edward, her hands shaking. He walked up to her until the stirrup at the end of the crossbow was pressed against his chest. Then he reached down with one elegantly gloved hand and repositioned it so it was pointing directly at his heart.

"Go ahead, darling. If you're going to do it, then do it. Otherwise, we'll just continue on with the game."

Anne trembled, trying to make herself pull the trigger. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed her finger to move. All she had to do was squeeze the trigger. 

And she couldn't do it.

Edward took a step back, a smug smile on his face as the crossbow's tip fell to the floor. Then he turned towards the door to the next room. Dylan had pulled himself back to his feet and dusted himself off, wincing a bit as he adjusted the bandages on his hands. He shot a glare at Anne and then followed after Edward.

"Come on, let's get this over with. The sooner we get this done, the sooner Jeremiah's back."

Anne watched him pass through the doorway and then followed after him. For just a moment, she looked over at Lydia, wondering if there was a way she could play the two hosts off of each other. Unlikely, but possible. She would just have to play it carefully. She slung her crossbow back onto her back and followed them through the doorway.

* * *

The next room they entered was a familiar one with it's large screen on the wall and it's small podium with two simple buttons. Trust or Forsake. Anne pushed past her brother, making her way up to the platform. He'd gotten to choose last time and, as far as she was concerned, he'd chosen wrong. Looking up at the screen, she could see her own face reflected back in the odd blocky art style they used here. She didn't look back, she didn't even wait for instructions, she just pushed the button to Trust.

"Oh, how interesting!"

"It looks like you've chosen to trust."

"And so very quickly~" Edward leaned in next to her, a slow smile on his face. "Shall we see if your fellow competitors were so kind?"

She heard Dylan snort derisively somewhere behind her and closed her eyes. She would find a way to fix this, to fix him, once they were out of here. They would get out of here. she just kept having to tell herself that over and over again. They would get out of here.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked up to see two words on the screen and at first she thought she'd missed something and the game had reset. Trust. Forsake. Then she realized, horror slowly growing, that no. That wasn't what had happened at all. No, the others, whoever they were, they had chosen to Forsake. Anne felt her whole body go cold. 

Lydia smiled slowly, gesturing broadly.

"Well, you know what that means, dears. You get a hard challenge. Not the hardest, but a hard one. And isn't that just so much fun."

Edward moved to put an arm around Dylan's shoulders and he shrugged away.

"I do hope you're ready. It would be such a shame if you died before you reached your prize."

* * *

The next room was nothing like the first challenge they'd faced. But that had been an easy one, a game albeit a cruel one. This looked more like a factory, the whole ceiling lined with machinery. Anne stayed close to Dylan out of habit more than anything else. He kept edging away from her, an annoyed look on his face. It hurt. 

But at least the hosts didn't follow them in here. Instead, Edward and Lydia's voices could be heard echoing throughout the room.

"Welcome to Monster Factory, darlings."

"In this challenge, you're going to have to fight a custom-made artisanal monster."

"That's it. Just fight and win."

Anne licked her lips and nodded, checking her crossbow and making sure she could get to the bolts easily. Just fight a monster. Her and Dylan. They could do that. Everything was going to be fine.

Slowly, a creature began to take shape on the other side of the room and Dylan began to snarl, fur rippling over his body. The creature was large and distinctly feline under the flames that wreathed it. It bounded not towards them but towards a wall, taking a flying leap. The tiger's paws stuck to the smooth surface of the wall and Anne raised her crossbow.

"Your challenge is... a blazing, wall-crawling tiger."

"We just can't wait to see how it goes."


	5. Chapter 5

Recovery didn't restore Dylan's memories. It didn't really fix anything important and it didn't leave them any closer to getting out of here alive, with or without Jeremiah Blackwell. Sure, some minor things had been restored. Dylan's dexterity was back. Her health was restored. That was all. None of the memories, certainly not the trust that had existed between them. And now they were headed towards another round with the wheel of sacrifice and Anne was just about done with all of this. She knew now that this had all just been a trap. They had never had a real chance to get Jeremiah back. All they could do here was suffer. 

The question was how long could they last? Or... how long would the elves running this place toy with them before putting them out of their misery. How many times could they run through the same circuit of so-called competition before it was over? 

She had no idea.

Dylan stepped towards the wheel, his jaw clenched as he looked at it. His expression looked pained as he grabbed the wheel and spun it as hard as he could. For a long moment, it just kept going and going and it seemed like it would never stop, like this anxious, terrified waiting was the new form of their suffering. But, as Edward and Lydia looked on with glee, the wheel came to a stop. Anne swallowed hard when she saw the symbol. The Eye. Not as bad as it could be, she thought. Maybe they'd take his good night vision, or his color vision or something. Something small like before.

Instead, Edward smiled slowly and stepped in close to Dylan.

"Well, well, well, it seems that you've spun Eye. And since this is your third round and all, I think that what this means is... we're going to take yours." He paused, smiling slowly and showing all his teeth. "Unless of course, you'd like to take the penalty and spin again."

Dylan looked pale, ashen under the tan of his skin, but he swallowed and then nodded.

"Fine. Fine, take 'em."

There was no pain, no blood, no screaming like Anne would've expected. Her twin had his eyes one moment and they were gone the next, the smile on Edward's face even brighter now. There was a strip of cloth over where Dylan's eyes would be, even, hiding the gaping wounds where they had been. He stumbled back away from the wheel, his hands up to catch himself. Anne caught him instead and he pulled away, growling.

"I'm _fine._ "

She didn't believe him. And he didn't trust her. And this place was Hell, she was sure of that. Maybe they were already dead and they just hadn't stopped to notice it yet. But what had she done wrong in her life to deserve an afterlife like this? 

Lydia beckoned for her to step forward.

"You're up next, dear."

Anne stepped towards the wheel of sacrifice, this device of their torment, and gripped her crossbow tightly. She was done. She didn't want to play this game any more. All she wanted was to leave this place and never come back. She wanted her brother to know her, she wanted her Ma, she wanted her home, and she wanted to cry until Wonderland was nothing but a shadow in her memory. 

She raised the crossbow and leveled it at Lydia's chest. 

"I'm done playin' your games."

This time, she didn't hesitate. This time, she pulled the trigger.

The dart passed harmlessly through and the liches laughed. Anne fumbled for another crossbow bolt, trying to get it in place and the string pulled back so she could fire again. She'd been practicing, she could do this so quickly when her hands weren't shaking. 

"Bad luck, dear."

She wasn't sure which one of them it was that she heard but the next thing she heard was the sound of a dolorous bell ringing once. That sound swamped her hearing, overwhelmed her senses and left her with a confused sense of nothingness.

And then... 

The mannequin that sometimes thought of itself as Anne clapped as the three figures walked out onto to take their seats for another round of Heart Attack. Edward and Lydia were so clever, so entertaining, so wonderful, so very perfect. How could this be anything else?

And then, somewhere else...

Dylan Mathis stumbled into town, cold and hungry and so very alone. He couldn't see, hadn't been able to see for days, but he'd managed to make his way home. He heard feet pounding down the steps and over the packed earth coming towards him and then felt hands grab him by the shoulders.

"Dylan, boy, what happened?" It was his Ma, Abigail Mathis, her grip almost too tight as she pulled him to her. "Where's your sister?"

Confusion and blankness met his mind at her question.

"I... I tried to get Jeremiah back, Ma. Only it didn't work."

Abigail held him out at arm's length for a moment, silently searching his face for something. Then she spoke again, more softly.

"Dylan Mathis, where is your sister?"

He didn't understand. He didn't know what she was talking about. He didn't have a sister, did he?

"Who?"


End file.
